Bob Hayward & Nick Baldock have now run 32 consecutive marathons out of the 34 it will take to get to John O’Groats from Land’s End and in doing so have covered over 800 miles. This is all in aid of Podge the 13 year old boy who was so badly burnt in an attack last May.

It used to be light. Today though it is noticeably dark as they open their eyes at the shrill of the alarm at 4.45am. Chris nurses them through those first few vital minutes via the provision of hot sweet tea. Unsteadily, the motor home rocks and sways as Bob and Nick undergo a ritual of preparation and exercises before they hit the road. Out the window over the North sea, the sky is a flame red. A sign of things to come maybe?

Neither Bob or Nick had any idea of the type of day they were about to go into. However, after a pleasant first mile through Helmsdale, the real work set in. Climbing steeply out of the village, the road took them higher and higher with each sweeping curve of the road as it traverses up the hill. The hill they ran up has wide purple heather patches scattered over its harsh, barren surface. To the right of them is the wide open sea, calm and flat on this late August morning. Although the scenery is the most dramatic they have seen since leaving Land’s End, conversation at 6.35am is small when your focus can only be on the 6 foot of tarmac in front of you as your body leans forward into the hill. Little is said as they climb higher and higher, their legs feeling the full power of the hill.

After easing off after 4 miles, they come across a sign to say the they are leaving Sutherland and entering Caithness. Bob raises his arms in glee! After regaining their strength and energy they run side by side, talking. About what? Everything and nothing. Bob comments he is covered in sweat and hasn’t been this drenched since the start of the run. They run along the steep cliff tops, their wet–shirts flapping against their skin in the cool morning south westerly breeze. After a steady run through pine forests, they came into Berridale and the sign for the village marked ‘Berridale Braes’ meaning not a hill and not quite a mountain. MMmm. After 8 very hilly miles, they were apprehensive. However, let them say that a piece of them both is permanently left behind in Berridale on the viciously steep drop into Berridale, and the agonising climb out the other side. Their ‘manager’ Chris came out to join them at the bottom of the valley in the village giving them the added impetus to get to the top in one hit for breakfast. So the three of them took the hill, although the feel of their legs at the top they’re sure the hill took them!

Their second stretch for the day of 8 miles saw the sun shine as they set off down the coast road. Conversation becomes fast and intense as they discuss various things in life. Then comes a silence and they take in the conversation and the raw beauty around them. All the time, their legs move forwards and backwards below them in an automatic fashion, the rhythmic and hypnotic slap, slap on the tarmac. Running single file down the beautiful coast road, they see oil rigs out in the distance on the North sea, their tall structures rising out of the glittering and shimmering North Sea in the late morning sun.

They tire quicker now as the day wears on and as they stop after 18 miles, they both slump into the two seats. Little is said through fatigue. Little is said to Chris their ‘manager’ although he pre–empts and tends to their needs with uncanny accuracy. Chris ran across the United States last year with a driver so knows probably better than anyone what it is like. And how he looks after them!

On the third stretch of the day they aim to run a 5 mile stretch. Right at the beginning Bob finds on the side of the road a 10 note! They had been collecting money from the side of the road since Lands End and until that moment, Bob had collected marginally under 2, and Nick had collected over 6. All of a sudden with 2 days to go, it could be all over for Nick! Well, done Bob!

Legs are heavy now at 1.37 pm as they fight tooth and nail for each and every mile. They look for mile marker signs down the road as little targets for them to aim for. Not for them John O’Groats even at this late stage. A grey mile marker is their sole motivation as they trundle down the road.

On the fourth and final three mile stretch, their legs and muscles are intensely sore and tired. But hey, they were yesterday too! Chris comes out on the last two miles to help them to the Motor home that he has parked on the side of this winding coastal road. “That’s your 26” he says. Bob and Nick smile as they scramble into the motor home and flop down into the seats.

Job done!